


From A Mother's Heart

by Remsyk



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bonding, Brief origin story, Colleen Holt centric, Conspiracy Theories, Gen, Government Cover Ups, Grief, Mentions of the paladins - Freeform, Multiple original characters - Freeform, Post cadet disappearances, Post-Kerberos Mission, badass parents, shifting povs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:55:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10381059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remsyk/pseuds/Remsyk
Summary: Colleen Holt always knew her family had the drive and ambition to go out into the world and beyond, and make a name for themselves.She never imagined it would be like this.





	1. Chapter 1

She sat on the bed, barely able to make out the faces in the picture she clutched in her hands. Even in the fading light, she could see them in her mind's eye, their smiling faces so painfully familiar.

 

She had never been someone who tolerated being left behind, and now she was the only one left. Having a family with ambition seeping from their very bones, it was only a matter of time before they left the nest and made a name for themselves.

 

But not like this.

 

Her mind replayed that night, the memory like a movie paused at her favorite scene. She had been on the couch, hoping for news, searching for any scrap of information about what they were doing and where they were, maybe even if they had made a discovery. Instead, the news alert had flashed vibrant red through the living room, a macabre opening for a tragic act, announcing the loss of the crew of the Kerberos mission. The cause: pilot error.

 

She had been fixed to the couch, unable to tear her eyes away from the portraits of her son and husband, of the pilot they had come to view as a member of the family. In the background she could hear her daughter, and as much as she pleaded with herself to turn to her, to help her through her grief like a mother should, her body wouldn't respond. All too soon, the sounds disappeared, signalling the retreat of her only remaining family member, her last remaining lifeline.

 

Eventually she had roused herself, moving like a zombie through the house, making her way to her room. She found her with the intention of being the voice of reason, of being the rock to hold what remained of her family together. Instead, they had clutched at each other and wept.

 

But as the tears dried, she vowed to take action.

 

When her husband and son had vanished, she had been angry, furious that the Garrison had not even bothered to reach out to her beforehand. Of all the people who deserved answers, surely she was at the top of the list, her name written beside the parents of the pilot. But they had only called to apologize for the news report.

 

Her daughter had been equally furious, the very vision of righteous fury, and had immediately cried foul. In her heart, she knew there was more to the story, and if there was anything she knew about her resident genius, it was that she would never quit until she found her answer. Like any good mother, she had listened, asked probing questions, fostered her daughters ideas, and picked her up when the Garrison repeatedly threw her out.

 

She had listened when her daughter lamented her inability to find answers, had provided a shoulder to cry on when her frustrations boiled over, and had pushed her to keep trying. When she had come to her with the idea of enrolling as a student, she of course had her doubts.

 

She was so young. The coursework was never an issue; her daughter was a genius, after all, but what about the students? Even as strict an environment as Garrison, bullying was a problem. If anything, being even a little different from the cookie cutter standard was a reason to invite ridicule. Would she be able to handle that kind of attention? Would she be mature enough to handle it appropriately?

 

And there was the issue of being permanently banned from the Garrison grounds. Even if her application was accepted, even if she proved to be the greatest navigations officer to ever walk their halls, would they let her in? She doubted it. They would suspect it would be a ploy, a reason to get back inside so she could dig for more classified information. Which was true, but they didn't need to know that.

 

But of course, her daughter had an answer for her questions. She had answers for questions she hadn't even considered, and by the end of the conversation, she was just as convinced as her young daughter. But she had her doubts. That was her job as a mother, after all.

 

Thus Pidge Gunderson was born, a young genius currently being fostered with the Holt family.

 

Her daughter had been sent to live with relatives, her young mind too distraught with the loss of her brother and father to tolerate living in the house any longer, or so the neighbors thought.

 

She had filled out the forms, signed all the paperwork, waived all the special exceptions, and paid the fees. Pidge was going to be a navigations officer, flying for the Garrison.

 

She was updated every day, every evening just after dinner. She would open her email at 7:25, and by 7:30, she would have a new message. Most of it was filler, the usual school fluff that followed any student, but every now and then, a little bit of interesting information would float through.

 

_ Today, Iverson mentioned our top pilot was expelled due to discipline issues. _

 

_ They announced the top contenders to pilot a second Kerberos mission. _

 

_ The pilot of my team used to be a cargo pilot. He was bumped due to that expulsion I told you about. _

 

_ Our engineer is a practical genius, but he can't keep food in his stomach. _

 

_ The expelled pilot's name came up today during morning announcements. Keith Kogane. It's his birthday today. _

 

_ A lot of officers don't think Shiro could have made a mistake. There were contingencies in place. _

 

But the fluff began to fall away after the announcement she was going to make her own radio wave receiver, one powerful enough to pick up interstellar radio chatter. How she managed to create a portable version is beyond her knowledge, but she couldn't help the swell of pride. Her daughter had pieced together equipment that was just as capable, if not more so, than the full scale version. The fact she was using it to spy on the communications of Earth and beyond was beside the point.

 

She began to mention space chatter, radio transmissions that didn't originate from Earth, a repeating messages, and more and more urgent discussions about 'Voltron' and 'an arrival'.

 

The last message she received as a hasty email sent late at night, an uncharacteristically frantic message that filled her chest with dread.

 

_ Team and I found something, talk of Voltron and arrival tonight, alien crash landing, shiro alive, met keith, lives in the desert, talk later, love you mom _

 

It was the last message she ever received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With so many stories of the paladins, I wanted to explore the story of those who were left behind. And honestly, I can't see Colleen Holt staying out of the loop and not being aware of what Katie was doing, nor is she someone who would sit down and accept her circumstances.


	2. Chapter 2

When the news of the missing crew had broken, Colleen had immediately called the Shirogane family, reaching out both for comfort and for a kindred spirit. She had only spoken to them in passing before, but remembered the couple had another son, though she couldn't remember his name. She learned they had not been informed either, and were taking the news especially hard given the fact that their son was taking the blame.

 

"It's not like him to make a mistake!" Keiko had cried into the receiver. "He told me over and over that he would never do anything to risk their lives or his own!"

 

Colleen had been quick to reassure them. "I'm not angry with you or Shiro. Whatever happened, I know he would have done everything in his power to protect Sam and Matt."

 

Keiko hadn't been able to speak through her tears. Eventually, Yusuke had taken the phone, thanked her for reaching out, and hung up.

 

While acquainted due to the large scale of the Kerberos mission, Colleen hadn't really taken the time to know the Shirogane's beyond the obvious association. The couple had seemed rather formal, carrying on the traditions of their home country. After meeting with Takashi, or Shiro as he had insisted, she wondered how such an open and friendly child had survived under their strict care.

 

With the loss of their son and half of her family, both sides reached out to forge a deep friendship, shattering Colleen's previous ideas of their parenting techniques and personalities. The two families held each other together, providing support and comfort whenever it was needed.

 

Eventually she told them of her plan with her daughter, their theory of a coverup. Keiko had initially been furious, angry at the idea of stirring up painful memories.

 

"Let my son's memory rest in peace! Why can't you understand that?"

 

She had backed off, leaving the idea to rest between them, always on the back of their minds, but ignored by all parties. It had been Yusuke who brought the topic back to the forefront, during their weekly dinner.

 

"Have you made any progress on your theory?"

 

Keiko gaped at her husband, blindsided by his forward question.

 

Colleen hid her surprise behind a bite of her salad, taking the time to organize her thoughts. "Katie has been looking into it on her own time. Unfortunately, it has gotten her in trouble with the Garrison, and she's been barred from the grounds."

 

Yusuke frowned and set his utensils down. "That's truly unfortunate. Is there a particular reason for the expulsion?"

 

"I've been told it was due to a breach in security." Colleen chuckled and shook her head. "Katie hacked into Iverson's computer. They caught her before she could get too far, but she did find that all files pertaining to the mission have been sealed and marked 'Classified'."

 

"Classified? It was a research mission," Keiko leaned forward in her seat. "They used public funds. The information should be available."

 

Colleen shrugged lightly. "Whatever the reason, Katie will not stop until she finds the answer."

 

"And how will she do that when she is barred from the grounds?" Yusuke frowned thoughtfully.

 

"By becoming someone else," Colleen answered simply. She used their stunned silence to take a drink and calm her racing heart. She had spent many sleepless nights agonizing over the radical idea, but to actually say it...

 

"What are you talking about?" Keiko demand. She pushed her plate aside, her appetite forgotten.

 

Colleen laid a hand on her friend's, clutching it lightly as she spoke. "I will not sit here and give you false hope. All of this may end with nothing, and I will not subject either of you to that pain if I can help it." Keiko met her eyes steadily and turned her hand so she held back tightly. "But, there is a chance, a plan that Katie and I have developed to get her inside the Garrison to hopefully find more answers."

 

"Tell us, we're with you to the end, no matter the result." Yusuke answered fiercely, clutching his wife's hand just as tightly. Keiko nodded, never breaking eye contact.

 

Colleen inhaled a shaky breath, suddenly overwhelmed by the support of her dear friends. "Okay, but not here. We'll talk back at my home."

 

That night, the three grieving parents had hashed out a plan, discussing details and possibilities, and soothing fears too great to share with the last child of their group.

 

When Pidge 'joined the family', the Shirogane family had gone on record voicing their support, adding that they were heartened to see Mrs. Holt still supported the work of the Garrison, and believed in their mission enough to foster a future cadet. They had lamented Katie's decision to 'live with relatives', reassuring the world that her actions were justified and understandable.

 

As agreed, Colleen passed on Pidge's emails, keeping the Shirogane's in the loop. It was a necessary step to keep Pidge's identity safe. Cadet Gunderson had no ties to the Shirogane family, thus had no reason to email them personally. They had replied back with their own insights and theories, which she then passed back to Pidge.

 

But when the final email arrived, she didn't forward the message.

 

She called them instead, reading the words with a shaky voice. She had barely stopped speaking when Yusuke answered.

"We're on our way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So clearly I've taken some liberties with the identities of the family members. My hope is that they won't remain a mystery, and will eventually play a larger part in the show later on down the line.
> 
> PS - Kudos to anyone who picked up on the blatantly obvious Yu Yu Hakusho reference.


	3. Chapter 3

Colleen had never felt such a mixture of emotions so fiercely in her life. If Keiko hadn't been holding her hand, she would have thrown a punch, courtesy be damned.

 

One week, _an entire week_ , had passed before someone from the Garrison reached out to her, informing her that her foster child had gone missing, but rest assured, we are doing all we can to find him.

 

On the one hand, or finger really, if she was being honest, she was pleasantly surprised the Garrison had even bothered to contact her at all. They had waited a full week to do so, something they were clearly not aware she knew, but they had spoken to her nonetheless.

 

On the other hand, they thought it was more important to tell her about her missing foster child than the death of her husband and son in space on a research mission. Would they have even bothered to tell her if the news story hadn't broken? Did they follow up this time because of their mistake in the past? It didn't matter that Pidge was her actual child; the Garrison didn't need to know that. But would that have made the difference? Did they think she didn't care as much about Pidge, and thus wouldn't care that they waited to speak to her?

 

But their silence also confirmed the very thing they had set out to find, and she was surprised to find just how afraid she was of being right. There was a conspiracy, a cover up of some sort, if not for Kerberos, then definitely now. Pidge's emails again proved to be invaluable, giving Colleen insight to the Garrison's inner workings and mentality, as well as a front line commentary of events.

 

She was beyond furious, she was scared out of her mind for her remaining child, the last of her family, she was worried sick for her well being, and she feared losing everything to such a cursed place as the Garrison.

 

Her only saving grace were the Shirogane's. After 'The Call', as they had taken to referring to the event, the couple had stayed with Colleen, taking over chores and menial tasks when the grief became too much to bear. Yusuke fielded the reporters who inevitably showed up, hungry for the tragic story of a woman who lost everything to the relentless march towards space. Keiko ran the house and kept Colleen busy, assigning her tasks as though she were the guest, not that she minded. The first week was difficult, and she thanked whatever deity was listening and the stars themselves for her dear friends.

 

On the eighth day, Colleen settled on the couch with her laptop, and after taking a moment to calm her nerves, opened the final email to read over the memorized words again.

 

_Team and I found something, talk of Voltron and arrival tonight, alien crash landing, shiro alive, met keith, lives in the desert, talk later, love you mom_

 

She felt Keiko sit beside her, two steaming cups of tea in her hands.

 

"This should help," She handed one over, and Colleen wrapped her hands tightly around the warm mug, soaking in the heat as she inhaled the calming herbs.

 

"Thank you."

 

Keiko nodded and glanced at the screen, reading the email silently.

 

"We'll figure this out. After all, we're the ones who gave our children their intelligence. Surely we saved some for ourselves?" Keiko smiled at her reassuringly.

 

Colleen chuckled and returned the smile. "Fair enough. I think I have a bit left."

 

Yusuke stepped into the living room with his own cup of tea, his laptop tucked under his arm, and took a seat on the opposite side of the coffee table.

 

"Katie left you that message for a reason." He set his mug down and opened his laptop on the table, leaning forward as he brought up his emails. "Let's break it down and go from there."

 

"Yusuke, Keiko, I can't ask you to do that," Colleen looked pained, glancing between the couple. "You've already done so much for me."

 

Yusuke shook his head firmly as Keiko spoke. "You're not doing this alone. We're here for you, and like we said in the beginning, we're with you to the end, no matter the result."

Colleen felt her eyes fill with tears, and she ducked her head, pressing a hand to her mouth to muffle a sob. She heard the soft click of a mug being placed on the coffee table, then Keiko's arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against her as she removed the mug from Colleen's hand. A second set of arms joined from the other side, and the trio sat in silence as Colleen finally mourned for her family.


	4. Chapter 4

The trio settled in their seats like soldiers at their battle stations. Yusuke and Colleen brought up the email on their respective laptops while Keiko leaned over her friend. They each read over the words to themselves, no one quite ready to break the silence.

 

Finally, Colleen inhaled and spoke. "I suppose we should start with the obvious."

 

"Don't."

 

She looked at the tense woman beside her. "Keiko-"

 

"No. He may be alive, but he's still missing." She interrupted firmly. "I can't allow myself to hope for more than that."

 

Colleen felt her chest constrict for her friend. It was almost more painful to learn about Shiro's sighting than to believe him to be dead. The family had mourned him, buried an empty casket, and uttered their sacred rites. With just two simple words, their entire world had been turned upside down.

 

"Let's start at the beginning." Yusuke broke the tense silence. "She mentioned her team. Who do you think that is?"

 

Colleen cleared her throat and turned her attention back to her emails. "I think she's talking about her flight crew at the Garrison. She's called them her team before..." She trailed off as she entered in keywords, and sifted through the results, clicking past the oldest few to find the one containing their names. "Here, Lance McClain and Hunk Garrett."

 

Keiko got up and disappeared down the hall for a moment, then returned with a notebook and pen. She sat down and wrote the first section of the email. Just below she listed the two names.

 

"What do we know about them?" Yusuke probed.

 

"Well, Hunk was their engineer and Lance the pilot," Colleen skimmed over the open email, refreshing her memory. "She mentioned that Lance was a cargo pilot before she joined, and was bumped to fighter class after their top cadet was expelled." Her eyes widened and she looked up to meet Yusuke's curious gaze. "His name was Keith. Keith Kogane."

 

His expression matched her own as Keiko scribbled out her notes. "That is no coincidence."

 

"No. And she mentioned he lives in the desert. But he couldn't be too far from the Garrison if he was there during the crash landing."

 

"Didn't the press release mention that multiple students were missing?" Keiko suddenly interrupted.

 

Yusuke frowned in thought. "I believe they did." He glanced at Colleen. "Did they mention any others when they spoke to you?"

 

She shook her head. "No, but there's a pretty good chance they were all together for whatever happened."

 

"We should contact them." Keiko said firmly, laying her pen across her paper. "They need to know what's going on."

 

"Do you think that's wise?" Yusuke looked skeptical. "You know what they're going through right now."

 

"Exactly. They need to know that they aren't alone, and that we can help them through this." Her face was set with determination, her shoulders squared for a fight. Yusuke and Colleen shared a look, then he sighed and began typing.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"If we're going to contact them, we're going to need a phone number." Keiko rose and stepped around the table to peer over her husband's shoulder. He nodded at the screen, and she wrote down the listed numbers before returning to her seat. She tilted the page to Colleen, eyeing her expectantly.

 

She grabbed the phone, suddenly nervous. What would she say? Hi, I'm Colleen Holt, and I know what you're going through, but I have a theory about what's going on, and please don't hang up on me.

 

Her nerves must have been clear; Keiko gently laid a hand over her own.

 

"Just be honest. Whatever they may initially believe, they will sense your sincerity and listen."

 

She took a deep breath, and with a firm nod to her friend, she dialed the first number. After a couple rings, a woman answered, her thick accent flavoring her words.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hi, is this the McClain residence?"

 

"Who is this?"

Colleen inhaled and began. "My name is Colleen Holt, and I'm calling to offer my support and talk, if you'd allow me a moment of your time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really surprised at the response! This spawned from a random thought about how the Garrison would explain the missing cadets and kind of took on a life of its own. It's a bit self indulgent, haha.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Cristina McClain had flown for most of her life. As a former Navy pilot, she knew from experience just how difficult it was to earn a set of wings, especially when no one else believed she could do it. She had spent most of her life fighting against the stigma that a woman couldn't fly, let alone a Hispanic one. So when her son had begged her for a chance to fly for the Garrison, she did everything in her power to make it happen. She taught him everything she knew, as outdated as it was, and helped him train. She created an exercise routine and eating regiment, and religiously adhered to both alongside him.

  
She remembered the day he received his letter, the way he had whooped and ran screaming around the house, belting out his excitement. He had been accepted, and was going to be a pilot. She had never been more proud.

  
"Now we're never going to hear the end of it," Her husband had lamented. She didn't care.

  
As promised, he called her at the beginning of each week, updating her on his progress, sharing the latest gossip, and venting any and all frustrations. As the much anticipated Kerberos mission approached, she heard more and more about his idol, Takashi Shirogane, or just Shiro, as he clarified one call. She was glad he had a role model to look up to, someone with skills closer to his own than her own outdated abilities.

  
But when the mission was deemed a failure, and the crew tragically lost, she knew it would tear him apart.

  
"They said it was pilot error. Shiro was the best pilot of all of us! If he messed up, what does that mean for me?"

  
She knew he would be rattled, but she hadn't realized it would shake him to his core. "Everyone makes mistakes. He was only human. We don't know what happened, but if he truly was as great as you say, then I have no doubt he did everything possible to prevent this tragedy."

  
"But it didn't work. He's gone!"

  
"There are some things that are beyond our control. We, as pilots, must account for every possible scenario and react in the way that will best keep ourselves and others safe. And there are times when you can do everything right, and still fail. But you cannot let that stop you from doing what you love."

  
So when the pilot placement tests took place a week later, she waited anxiously for his call.

  
"I didn't qualify as a fighter pilot."

  
Her heart sank with his dejected words. "Who said you needed to be one?"

  
"I wanted to be one, just like you, Mom! And I failed!"

  
"No, you did not. You listen to me," She could hear him sniffling, and her heart broke for him. "Did you think I would be disappointed that you did not make fighter class? You couldn't be more wrong. You, my son, are a pilot. That alone means more to me than anything else in this world."

  
"But I'm not as good as you."

  
Cristina scoffed loudly. "Do you think I became an ace pilot overnight? You don't know how hard I worked, day and night, to get to that chair, to sit in that jet and fly better than anyone thought possible. And I know, because you are my son, that you will do the same."

  
"I'm stuck as a cargo pilot though."

  
"You are never stuck. You can do anything you want, as long as you work for it. Take this chance, use this opportunity to train, improve, and prove them wrong. I know you can do it. You just have to believe in yourself like I believe in you."

  
She heard him inhale deeply to calm down. "Thanks Mom. I will. I'll become a fighter pilot for sure!"

  
He sent her the test and simulation results the following week. She couldn't help but shake her head at her son's self doubt. He had only missed the cut off by half a point, and only because of his lower test score. His simulation scores were easily fighter class.

 

It was just a scant month later that he called, his voice a strange mix of excitement and doubt.

 

“I got bumped up to fighter class today.”

 

Cristina almost jumped for joy, but his flat tone gave her pause.

 

“You should be happy. What happened?”

 

She heard him sigh followed by a soft fwump, which she imagined was him falling back onto his bed.

 

“The top pilot in our class, Keith, was expelled earlier this week. They bumped everyone up a slot, which put me in the fighter class.”

 

“I'm sorry to hear that about him, but honey, this is a good thing for you! You’re going to be training as a fighter pilot!”

 

“I know! It's just… It doesn't feel like I earned it. It just happened by circumstance, not because I worked for it.”

 

Cristina frowned, understanding his concerns. “Look at this as an opportunity, a chance to prove to them that you deserve that slot just as much as the rest of them. I saw your scores, I know what you're capable of. Take this chance and run with it.”

 

She heard him sigh again, but she could tell he was thinking about his promotion in a different light.

 

“Okay, you're right. I'll show them that I deserve to be there just as much as one of them.”

 

She smiled into the receiver. “That's my boy. Show them what you've got.”

 

With each week, his attitude improved and his excitement grew. She learned all about his teammates. The engineer, Hunk, quickly became his wingman, a bright, happy boy who kept her son smiling. The navigations officer was a younger boy named Pidge, who kept mostly to himself, but his genius was unrivaled.

 

She was relieved to hear he had close friends to help him with the coursework and to keep him out of trouble.

 

“I crashed the simulator today.”

 

Cristina muffled a snort at his dejected tone. “And why did you crash?”

 

“Well, first of all, did I tell you that Hunk has zero tolerance for any sort of vehicular movement, up to and including flying?”

 

She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Really? And what does that have to do with the crash?”

 

“He threw up in the console!”

 

She burst out laughing, doubling over as she held her stomach.

 

“Mom! It's not funny! Between that and Pidge bouncing around the cockpit, it's a wonder I even managed to make it as far as I did!”

 

She laughed harder and wiped the tears from her eyes.

 

“Moooommmmm!!!”

 

Their shared laughter carried her through the week, causing her to smile randomly when the memory floated through her head. She spent the following Monday anticipating his call, eager to hear the continuation of his team’s antics.

 

But when the phone rang that evening, it wasn't her son on the other end. All thoughts of laughter died as they spoke, leaving a black void in its place.

 

Her son was missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, back from vacation, so hopefully updates will be more consistent. 
> 
> Thank you, lovely people!!


	6. Chapter 6

If anyone asked her friends and family, Grace Garrett would be called a friendly dictator. She had a heart big enough for anyone and everyone she encountered, but ran her restaurant with an iron fist. Every dish had to be perfect, every table spotless, and every customer satisfied, but at the end of the day, any leftovers were packaged and sent to the local shelters and food banks.

She ran her household the same way. Anyone who stepped through her door was immediately entered into her heart, but the house was kept to her strict standards.

Those standards tended to clash with her husband's tinkering hobby, but with a few compromises and the relinquishing of the mudroom, harmony was achieved.

Unfortunately, with children comes dissonance, and three created a chord she could never tune just so. 

Regardless, she loved her family, her work, and her contributions to the community. It was this kindness and passion she passed to her children, instilling them with a compassion for others that matched her own.

But of the three, it was her youngest and only son with whom she shared her closest bond. He reflected her passion for helping others and cooking equally, and frequently helped her with both growing up.

While his open heart and sweet nature helped him make friends easily through school, it also left him vulnerable to those who saw his kindness as a weakness. It was through the bullying and teasing from his sisters that he earned his nickname, though she had been able to turn the slight to a more positive light, calling him her ‘Hunk of Heart’. The name eventually stuck.

Her daughters were gifted with the minds for management and numbers, and both fell into the family business, allowing Grace to focus on her cooking. Together, the restaurant flourished, and she eagerly waited for her son to join her in the kitchen.

Although he shared her love of cooking, his real passion was tinkering with her husband. She couldn't count the number of times she had confined them to the mudroom, both a greasy mess from taking apart some machine in the garage. He had a mind for parts, and never failed to fix or improve whatever he worked on. Regardless, she held out hope that he would pursue a career as a chef.

But her plans didn't quite pan out when he approached her one day after a career seminar at the local college.

“I want to be an engineer.”

She had initially been disappointed. He was a skilled and innovative cook, able to make delicious dishes from almost anything within reach, with a clear love for his craft. But she also knew how stubborn he could be; once his mind was made up, it was set. It didn't stop her from trying.

“Honey, what about the restaurant? You love to cook. What about going to school to become a chef?”

He shook his head slowly, his decision made.

She sighed through her nose and set aside the bowl she had been whisking. “Alright, if that's what you want to do. But can I ask you why engineering and not cooking?”

He stared at the table between them, his brow creased in concentration. She waited patiently, knowing he was organizing his thoughts.

“Engineering makes sense,” He began slowly, his eyes fixed on a point on the table. “When I see something, I can picture it in my head, like a 3D schematic. I can see each part and how they connect and work together, and it just makes sense to me. I can see the problem and fix it.” He looked up to her patient gaze. “I love to cook, but I love it as a way to calm down, to relax and organize my thoughts. It's like my own personal therapy session, I guess. I cook for myself and the people I care about. The restaurant is way too stressful for me.” He ended with a pensive, apologetic shrug.

Grace smiled and reached across the table to grasp his hand firmly. “Thank you for being honest with me. And I understand, the work of a chef is extremely stressful.” She smiled reassuringly as relief washed over his features. “That doesn't mean I won't miss your amazing cooking.”

He laughed and shook his head, squeezing her hand. “I learned all that from you!”

“No,” She said firmly, making sure she had his full attention. “You looked at my recipes, took them apart, and made them better.”

She knew she would never forget the look of pure joy on his face.

He immediately started classes tailored towards his decision, and it was soon clear he had made the correct decision. He had a gift for absorbing the complex problems, but he also had the ability to explain the process in a way anyone could understand. He plowed through his courses, topping the class in each easily, absorbing as much material as they could throw at him.

So it didn't surprise her when came racing into the living room one day, a letter clutched tightly to his chest.

“I'vebeenacceptedtothegarrison!”

Grace laughed as her husband leaned forward, reaching for the letter.

“Calm down, bud. Say that again.”

The bright teen was practically glowing, and he shoved the letter at them with a broad smile. “I've been accepted to THE GARRISON!” He was dancing in place at this point. “Do you know what that means?!”

Her husband, Jason, had smirked over the paper. “Yeah, flying.”

Grace threw back her head and laughed. She had never seen her son’s face turn pale so quickly.

Despite the threat of living in a constant state of nausea, he insisted on pursuing his education with the esteemed school. Neither of them objected.

The hardest part for her turned out to be move-in day.

“Mom, I told you, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry.”

“I have to worry. It's my job as a mother,” Grace replied, glancing around the tiny, crowded room again. 

“He’ll be fine, dear. We should probably go before his roommate gets back. Wouldn't want to cramp his style or make a bad first impression,” Jason winked at his son, who rolled his eyes.

“Are you my new roommate?”

All eyes turned to the tall, lanky teen in the doorway, his face bright with a friendly smile.

“Yeah, I just got here,” He reached out a hand, but the energetic teen bypassed his offer.

“Dude, let me tell you, we’re gonna be best buds!” The lanky teen slung an arm around her son’s shoulders with a carefree smile. “The name’s Lance.”

“Sounds great to me,” He replied with a smile of his own, introducing himself as well.

“It seems I won't have to worry about you too much.” Grace exchanged a grin with her husband.

“Listen, I gotta show you around. I heard Takashi Shirogane is gonna be giving a speech to the incoming cadets and we have to get a good seat.”

“Who?”

The teen gaped at her son. “How can you not know who Takashi Shirogane is?” At his clueless expression, Lance launched into a torrent of praise for the legendary pilot. “He's only the greatest pilot to walk the halls of this institution! He's one of the youngest officers in the history of the Garrison, and he's on the fast track to potentially become the youngest pilot to fly an interplanetary mission!” By the time he finished, he was leaning close to her startled son, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Um, oh, my bad,” He stammered. “I didn't know. I don't follow pilots too much.”

“What?! What are you here for?” Lance asked as he tossed his hands out explosively.

“Engineering,” He answered with an eager smile.

His roommate grinned back, taking his answer in stride. “Dude, that's perfect! When we start flying, we work in teams. You can be my engineer and I'll be your pilot! We just need a navigations guy and we’re set!”

“You know quite a bit about how this works,” Grace spoke up. 

He jumped in surprise; he had clearly forgotten they weren't alone. He recovered quickly, his grin sliding back in place. “This is my dream! I've got this all planned out. I'm gonna be the greatest fighter pilot ever!” He clapped a hand on the larger boy’s shoulder. “And this guy is gonna be my awesome engineer right there with me!”

Grace clasped her hands together in delight and turned to her husband, who wore a matching expression.

“Oh yeah, no pressure or anything,” He chuckled nervously as he glanced between Lance and his parents.

Jason chuckled at his sudden unease. “No need to worry, son. You're smart enough and stubborn enough to make it happen.” He shared a conspiratorial wink with his roommate. “Plus, you have your own personal cheerleader to keep you motivated.”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands as the group laughed. “Daaaaad!”

Grace left that day reassured he had made the right decision. While a part of her still mourned the loss of his presence in her kitchen, she took comfort in knowing he already had a friend to lean on and help him.

He kept in touch every couple weeks by video chat, often accompanied by the enthusiastic greetings from his roommate. He kept his reports rather generalized, but he always seemed to have a question for his father concerning a problem or project he was working on.

Grace took to sending him copies of her recipes, asking his opinion and requesting his critical eye and taste for improvements. It helped that Lance adored her cooking, devouring everything with equal gusto.

When it came time to be assigned to squads, she was pleasantly surprised to hear he had been placed with Lance. Their third member was a young, quiet boy named Pidge, but he managed to pull the genius out of his shell rather quickly.

It was also when she learned the full extent of her son’s motion sickness.

“Mom, I can't do it.”

“What? Can't do what? Since when have you given up on something?” She demanded, one hand on her hip as the held the phone to her ear.

“I know, but really, this time may just kill me.” He stated, completely serious.

Grace sighed and shifted her stance. “Okay, lay it on me.”

“I threw up in the simulator.”

There was a dramatic pause as Grace waited for him to elaborate. “And…”

“And?! Mom! We hadn't even taken off! As soon as the screen started up and the sim started moving, I lost it.”

_ It was really gross!! _ Lance supplied in the background.

Grace held the phone away as she struggled to stifle her laughter. 

“What's so funny?” Jason called from the living room. A few moments later, he poked his head through the door.

“Mom! Are you laughing at me? This really isn't funny. What if I throw up every time I'm in the simulators? What if I can't stop throwing up when I start? What if I get dehydrated and die?! These are serious issues! Mom? Dad!!”

By this point, both Garretts were doubled over from laughing, tears streaming down their faces as Grace barely held onto the phone.

She calmed enough to speak between chuckles. “I'm sure it will get better once you get used to it.”

“I feel like you're not taking me seriously,” He answered flatly.

That set off another wave of laughter from the parents.

Despite his worries, Grace received updates that his “incidents” declined as he acclimated, though he never could get used to his roommate's style of flying. It didn't take long for her collect tales of the trio’s attempts to navigate the various missions.

“Lance crashed the simulator.”

“What happened this time?” Grace asked with a smile. She motioned for Jason to listen as she set the phone on speaker.

“Our fearless leader decided it would be best to ‘thread the needle’ while I was trying to repair the stabilizers.”

“And I would have too if you had actually fixed it and not thrown up all over it!” Lance yelled from the background.

“Dude, not cool,” Rustling accompanied his whining as he covered the mouthpiece. “Anyway, yes, I may have thrown up in the console.”

Jason grimaced from his place against the door frame. “That's gonna be a nightmare to clean.”

“I know! Don't remind me; I feel bad enough about it already.”

“How about this, honey,” Grace spoke up. “I have a new recipe for chocolate cake that I need you to try for me. I'll send it to you tonight.” She planned on using the final recipe to make his birthday cake as a surprise when he came home.

“That sounds great!” He immediately perked up.

“I second that!” Lance chirped from the background.

Grace laughed and ended the call on a high note.  

She spent the rest of the week waiting for his response. She wasn't terribly concerned; he didn't get much time to use the kitchens to cook, let alone bake a cake. But when the weekend came and went without a word, she began to worry. Maybe he was sick, or maybe Lance or Pidge, but even then he would call.

The following Monday she finally snapped.

“I'm calling them.”

“He's probably been studying or putting extra time into the simulators,” Jason reasoned. 

She reached for the phone just as it started to ring and exchanged a glance with her husband.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” He leaned back in his chair with a smile.

But it wasn't her son on the other end. It was the Garrison.

Her son was missing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to our regularly scheduled program! So sorry for the delay. Sometimes the words just don't work for the story. I had to get a few out of the way first. Almost everyone is present and accounted for!


	7. Chapter 7

She had expected anger. What she wasn't expecting was a tirade of words in both English and Spanish to spill through the receiver, forcing her to hold the phone from her ear. The woman's ranting had been cut off by someone taking the phone, who then just as angrily demanded answers. She had calmly explained who she was and why she was calling, ending by offering a hand of friendship and the support of those who knew exactly what they were going through. The man had remained silent long enough to make her doubt he was even on the line before answering curtly.

"What do you know?"

She had given him the summary of what they knew so far, a scant amount when she actually voiced it aloud. Another pause met her words, but he eventually answered.

"Send me everything you have." With that, he had rattled off his email and hung up.

After taking a moment to collect herself, Colleen contacted the Garrett family, thankfully receiving an equally angry, yet restrained reception. She repeated her words of friendship and support, then exchanged emails with the distraught couple and hung up, collapsing back into the couch cushions.

At some point during the calls, Keiko had started lunch and emerged with a plate of sandwiches. Colleen took one when they came in reach and munched on it listlessly.

"What do we do now?" She asked between bites.

"Wait, and keep digging." Keiko replied firmly. "They will want answers, just as we do."

"They were really angry." 

"So was I when you first spoke of such things. Now look at us." Keiko smiled fondly at her and set the plate on the table. The trio ate in silence as they contemplated their next move. After cleaning up and grabbing drinks, they returned to their battle stations for the next round of discussions.

"So what have we figured out so far?" Colleen sipped at her tea as Keiko recapped what they knew. 

"We know there are at least two other students missing, Lance McClain and Hunk Garrett. They were in contact with another former cadet, Keith Kogane, who lives or lived somewhere out in the desert near the Garrison." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "Takashi may be with them."

Colleen laid a gentle hand on her arm and nodded. "Okay, so what about the rest of the message."

"She mentioned 'Voltron' and 'arrival'. Most likely the arrival was the alien ship crash landing." Yusuke frowned and began typing on his laptop. "Obviously the Garrison isn't going to say anything about possible alien life, but if Google Earth is still doing their rounds, there may be an updated satellite image of the site. I'm going to check within a 50 mile radius of the Garrison and go from there."

"You should check for any signs of a building." Keiko chimed in. "Maybe Keith's home is nearby as well."

Yusuke nodded as he concentrated on his task. Colleen was prepared to wait when Keiko nudged her and stood, waving for her to follow.

"Why don't you help me clean up. This could take some time."

The two women ended up cleaning the rest of the house, taking care of chores that had fallen by the wayside. When they returned to the living room, Yusuke was hunched even further over his computer, tapping a finger on the table as he glared at the screen.

Keiko sat down next to him. “What's wrong?”

“There is nothing new on the satellite imaging.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I knew it would be a long shot, but I don't know what to do from here.”

“What about the shack? Did you find anything?”

Yusuke nodded and brought up another tab, displaying a zoomed in image of a distorted brown square against a sandy yellow landscape. A small red splotch sat next to the shack, most likely a vehicle of some kind.

The women leaned in, eyeing the unremarkable image. “It looks rather small.” Colleen commented.

He zoomed out until the aerial outline of the Garrison came into view. “It's just beyond the 50 mile mark. It's literally in the middle of nowhere.”

“How would anyone find that?” Keiko asked with a bit of awe. “Do you really think that's it? How would he live there? The nearest town is even further than the Garrison.”

Yusuke shrugged at her questions. “You're asking the wrong person, though I am just as curious as you.”

“So what do we do now?” Keiko glanced between the others.

Colleen walked around the pair to where her laptop sat on the table. “I have an email to write to some very distraught parents.” She settled on the couch, but hesitated before speaking again. “You two have other obligations. I can't ask you to put your own lives on hold for this.”

Yusuke and Keiko shared a look. “If you're worried about my job, I have arranged to work from home until further notice.” Yusuke announced plainly. “Keiko has also arranged for the house to be looked after as well.”

“Of course, if you would prefer we not impose, we can find other living arrangements,” Keiko quickly reassured the stunned woman. “We do not want to inconvenience you with our presence. We simply thought it would be easier for our investigation if we were close by.”

“I… I don't know what to say.” Colleen brought a hand to her gaping mouth. She shook her head slowly as she processed their offer. “You two could never impose, and I can't imagine forcing you to live out of a hotel when I have plenty of room here.”

She gave them both a watery smile. “I didn't want to say anything; I thought it would be too much to ask.”

Keiko smiled brightly at her. “Not at all!”

Colleen stood suddenly and rushed towards the stairs. “I need to get your room ready!”

Keiko rose quickly and followed. “Don't you dare try to give us your room!”

Once the clatter of footsteps died down, Yusuke slumped back in his chair and sighed, letting a smile form on his face.

Women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally hit a big spurt of inspiration! But there's still a long way to go though. Hang in there. 
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for sticking with me. :)


	8. Chapter 8

After finally figuring out suitable sleeping arrangements, everyone settled in for the night. Colleen laid on the pillows, her laptop open in her lap. She stared at the blank cursor, waiting patiently at the top of the email. Where should she begin? What could she say? How does someone explain to a parent the reason why their child is missing?

She sighed deeply. Her reasoning was sketchy at best. All she had to go on was her daughter's word, a hasty email sent late at night. To an outsider, it looked like the ramblings of a drunk teenager, typing out whatever nonsense came to mind and hitting send before anyone sober could intervene.

She suppressed another sigh and typed in the email addresses, determined to give them something, even if it ended up being her own disjointed thoughts.

 

_To Cristina and Hector, to Grace and Jason,_

 

_Allow me to begin with my sympathies. I am so sorry you have to live with the pain of a missing child. I know it all too well, and wouldn't wish it on anyone._

 

_But there is no easy way I can say this. I'm sorry if this sounds outrageous or even mad, but I have reason to believe the Garrison knows what happened to our children, and have chosen to leave us in the dark. Before you dismiss my claims, please take the time to read this to the end, and draw your conclusions afterwards._

 

_My suspicions began with the disappearance of the Kerberos crew, which you may know included my husband and son, in addition to the pilot. When my daughter and I were barred information concerning the circumstances of their disappearance, we decided to conduct our own investigation._

 

_Katie became Pidge Gunderson, a navigations officer, in order to enroll at the school. From there, she relayed information to me and the Shiroganes. However, her most important email came the night our children disappeared, a full week before the Garrison contacted us._

 

_You’ll find her email attached, as well a copy of what we have learned so far._

 

_I ask your help in finding our children. If you chose to ignore this, I completely understand. I have lost my entire family to this school and their endeavours, and the pain has been unbearable. But I can carry on because of the support of the Shiroganes, and all of us wish to extend that support to you._

 

_Even if you chose to walk away, I will do my best to find them, all of them, not just my daughter, my son, and my husband. I hope that should you chose this path, I will have answers when next we meet. If you chose to help us, I know we will find the answers we seek, and hopefully, even our loved ones._

 

_Thank you for your time,_

 

_Sincerely,_

 

_Colleen Holt_

 

She read over the email, nipping unconsciously on her thumb nail. It seemed coherent enough. She had written it as honestly as she could, holding nothing back. Keiko had insisted they would sense her sincerity, but she hoped it extended to the written word. Emotions can easily be misinterpreted through another person’s voice.

She teetered on the edge of uncertainty. She needed help. Keiko and Yusuke needed help. Together, they could only go so far in their search for answers. And they needed each other. It was true that her pain had been unbearable, and if she poked at it, worrying it like a sore tooth, that pain would rise to the surface. But the presence of her two friends, of two people who stood in her same footsteps and saw what she did, felt what she did, lifted the burden and made it a little easier to breathe.

She wanted that for the McClains and the Garretts. They needed to know that they are not alone, that there are people who understand exactly what they are going through, and do not think less of them for it.

But her doubts still lingered, and for the exact same reasons. The loss of a child is a heavy weight to bear, and the thought of shifting that burden onto anyone else could be viewed as weakness, either by themselves or others. Even if they accepted their support, there was the chance they would come to resent Colleen and the Shiroganes. Though they were united under the same set of circumstances, there was no way to know just how deep the wound cut, how acutely they felt their loss. Any words of encouragement would be seen as hollow and insincere.

They may even come to hate them for the constant reminders of what they lost. For some, when there are no answers, the only way to cope is to block it out, collect every shred of evidence, every memory, good or bad, and seal it away, never to be spoken of again. It took a special sort of will to create such a box, and an even greater strength to keep it locked.

 _There is no right answer,_  she thought to herself. With that, she clicked the send button, wrenching her hands back before she could second guess herself and cancel. Her computer pinged, causing her stomach to lurch as though on a roller coaster, signalling that the message was successfully sent.

There was nothing else for her to do except wait. She knew she wouldn't get a response tonight, but it didn't stop her from staring at her inbox, refreshing every few minutes. Her stomach refused to settle, rolling her doubts around as though she had eaten her words as she thought them.

After a half hour of self torture, she decided to call it a night, nerves be damned. As she moved to close the window, her computer pinged again.

Colleen inhaled sharply as a new message popped up in her inbox, it's bold subject drawing her stare.

**_Thank you_ **

 

It was from the Garretts.

She slowly pulled her mouse to the thread and opened it, holding her breath.

 

_We’ll be in touch._

 

She read over the simple message, each pass adding a layer of nerves until her stomach felt like a gladiator pit of butterflies. Just when she thought she couldn't get any more keyed up, her computer pinged for a third time.

Her inbox displayed a new message, this time from the McClains.

 

**_Re: A Moment of Your Time_ **

 

_We appreciate your honesty and your timely response to our request. We’ll be in touch._

 

Colleen let out the breath she had been holding with a whoosh, sinking into the pillows as she did. It could have been much, much worse. She’d take indifference any day over anger and hostility.

She closed the lid of the laptop and shoved it to the side, too tired to get up and put it away properly.

Well, she had her answers. Now how was she supposed to sleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Colleen, Keiko, Cristina, and Grace.
> 
> Happy Mother's Day <3


	9. Chapter 9

Being told a loved one is missing is almost worse than being told they're dead. Though questions may linger and the pain unimaginable, there is a finality that comes with the news. There's nothing to look forward to; there is nothing to be done about it. It simply ends.

But missing means there’s hope, there's a chance of finding them alive and well. But there is also doubt, and fear that the opposite may be true as well. Waiting for news becomes a constant pendulum of emotions, swinging from one extreme to the next. Everything is left in a state of limbo.

Time can be taken for funerals and viewings, and society will understand, nod their heads and offer their condolences. But for the missing, there are no such sympathies. Of course, they will nod and offer their condolences, but every request for time off is questioned, as though the void of the missing is not equal to the void of the dead. 

The worst part is the chance, the possibility of never finding them, of never having answers, of never having them to hold, or their body to bury.

* * *

 

“We can't go.”

Cristina whirled on her husband, her face a thundercloud. “Explain to me why.”

“Because he is not our only child.” Hector sighed in exasperation as she stormed around the kitchen island, viciously snatching a skillet as she continued to prepare breakfast. “We can't abandon them just to chase down a conspiracy theory.”

“Don't you dare accuse me of abandoning my children,” Cristina jabbed her whisk at him menacingly, globs of pancake mixture dripping onto the countertop. Under any other circumstance, he would have laughed.

“I'm not accusing you of anything. I just want you to take everything into account before making a decision. We have four other children. They deserve our love and support just as much as Lance, if not more.” Hector slid around the island and pulled her into his arms. “They're missing a brother as much as we are missing a son.”

Cristina protested weakly, then leaned her forehead against his chest, her whisk dangling loosely in her hand. “I have to know what happened,” she whispered. “I have to know where he is.”

“I know, and I feel the same way, but he is not the only one depending on us.”

He felt her nod and he placed a firm kiss in her hair as he pulled her closer. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

They stood in silence, each drawing comfort from the other, unwilling to break the spell. Cristina felt Hector tense for a moment then relax. When he remained quiet, she pulled back slightly.

“What is it?”

“Well, I was just thinking,” he pulled back as well, shifting his hold to wrap his arms loosely around her waist. “How about a compromise. If this woman, Colleen, finds anything important, like evidence of where he is or what happened, we’ll go. But until then, we’ll stay here.”

Cristina frowned as she weighed the proposal.

“Plus, it will give me some time to conduct my own investigation.”

Her eyes snapped into focus on his face. “What about your story? You've spent all this time on it already.”

“It just needs a final pass with the editor and I'll be all set. If she finds any typos, it’ll be a quick fix. It's practically finished.” Hector smiled at his wife fondly. “So, do we agree?”

She held out a few moments longer, then heaved a sigh and relaxed against his looped arms. “Alright, we have a deal. But if anything comes up, anything at all, we’re going.”

“You'll have to race me to the door, fly girl.” Hector smirked as Cristina scoffed and rolled her eyes, shoving at his chest. “You have the worst pickup lines.”

“But they worked on you,” he answered, reeling her closer. She laughed and tried to escape, playfully pulling on his arms. 

“I laughed out of pity!”

“Now that's just mean.”

Their shared laughter brightened their spirits, providing a moment of light in their dark hour. They still had each other. They still had hope.

* * *

 

 

“You can't convince me otherwise. I'm getting answers one way or another.” Grace navigated her kitchen like a freight train, easily grabbing her ingredients while Jason stood out of the way.

“And I agree, but we have to think this through. Just take a moment-”

“My son is missing!” Grace screamed, inhaling sharply as she felt the gravity of her words. It was the first time she had said it out loud. “He's out there somewhere, and we don't know if he's with anyone, if he's alone, what if he’s hurt? Is he even in the same country anymore? We don't know if he's alive or de-" She choked on the word, slapping a hand over her mouth as sobs shook her shoulders.

“Grace, my saving Grace, we can't think like that.” Jason reached for her, but as he touched her shoulders, she wrenched back, glaring at him through her tears.

“No, you can't think like that. I can't just sit around and wait for someone to give me answers. I can't passively stand by and let others search for Hunk for me. What have you done to find him?” She pointed an accusing finger at him, her face contorted with pain. “What have you done to help find our son? Nothing! You've gone on with your life, living as though he meant  _ nothing _ to you.”

Jason stepped back slowly, his face carefully neutral. “You don't mean that. You're letting your grief get the best of you.”

“I'm doing something!” Grace yelled, grabbing a dishcloth to occupy her hands before she tried to wrap them around his throat. “I've organized searches, printed posters, sent letters to the news, posted online. I have done everything I can think of. What have you done?”

Her husband watched her, his expression filled with grief and pity. “I've loved our daughters and ran our business,” he answered softly. He approached her slowly when she froze. “I haven't abandoned the others who depend on us.”

“I will not abandon my son!” Her face twisted as she fought to hold back her tears, clutching her dish cloth as though it were a lifeline.

“I never said you were. I could never abandon him,” Jason reasoned, his hands raised slightly. “I'm simply asking you to remember the rest of our family. And we have the restaurant to consider.”

“I can't just leave this alone! I have to know, and if this woman has answers, I need to hear them myself, not through some impersonal email.” 

“I understand, I want answers too, but think of the girls, think of the restaurant.” He searched her face before pressing on. “Our lives did not end when he went missing.”

Grace’s expression fell as she sank into a chair and leaned back into the table, her shoulders slumping. “It feels like it. I feel like there's a stone in my chest. I can't think, I can't breathe.”

Jason knelt in front of her. He pulled the strangled rag from her fingers and clutched her hands tightly. “We will get through this, together.”

Tears streamed down her face, and she held on just as tightly. “I have always been amazed by how calm you can be. I'm falling apart,” she laughed wryly and sniffed.

“Calm? I'm freaking out,” Jason joked softly. “But I know if I let it out, I'll never be able to think straight, or be there for you and the girls, and especially Hunk.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” Grace pulled her hands free and wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him close as she pressed her face into his neck. “I never should have said those things.”

Jason wrapped his arms around her waist with a sigh. “I know, I know,” he soothed. “We’ll get through this. We’ll find our son. I will do everything in my power to bring him home.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep.” She whispered.

“Then I promise I won't stop until I have answers.”

“I promise I will stand by you, no matter what,” Grace replied firmly, squeezing him tightly against her.

They remained locked together for a long moment.

“What do we do now?” Grace eventually asked, her voice hoarse.

“We’ll go see Colleen Holt.”

Grace pulled back in surprise. “What about the restaurant??

Jason winked as he rolled back to sit on the floor. “The girls will take over, and Cherie is an amazing chef. Not as good as you, of course, but good enough to fill in for a period.” He smiled broadly at her stunned expression. “We can stay as long as we need.”

Her face shifted as she narrowed her eyes at Jason's sprawled form. “You planned this.”

He shrugged, unconcerned by her descent attempt at the stink eye. “You needed to get that off your chest first. I figured you needed someone to yell at before you exploded on a total stranger.”

She rolled her eyes at him, rising with a huff. “You're impossible.” 

He chuckled, rolling out of the way when she kicked at his feet. “You're welcome.”

She ignored him as she worked on breakfast, clattering the pots a bit more than necessary. 

“Aw, come on, Gracie. I did it out of love!”

She banged the pots louder, dropping them onto the stove and stirring fiercely.

“Graaaaace,” Jason whined, sprawling out on the floor.

She finally let out a laugh at her husband’s antics. They were going to be okay. They still had hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step closer...


	10. Chapter 10

“Do I look okay? This isn't too casual, right?”

“Colleen, for the last time, you look fine.” Keiko rolled her eyes as they got out of the car, pausing to smooth out any wrinkles in her shirt.

Behind her, Colleen sighed and shut the car door, mentally preparing herself for the impending meeting.

“We’ll never know if we don't go inside,” Yusuke tossed over his shoulder as he crossed the parking lot to the brightly lit building.

The trio stepped through the doors of _Mama’s Finest_ , the town’s most talked about restaurant. Crowds of people milled around, mixing with those leaving, their clamshells of leftovers leaving an aroma of enticing dishes, and those waiting to be seated, perched on the various benches arranged around the entryway. When they gave their names to the hostess, they were immediately ushered to one of the private rooms, normally reserved for parties or special events. Their waitress got them settled in with drinks, then promptly left them alone.

Colleen fidgeted with her menu, staring blankly at the assorted lists and dishes. After a few minutes, Keiko huffed and snatched the menu out of her hands, ignoring Colleen's attempts to snatch it back as she tossed the menu on an empty chair.

“You're just worrying yourself to death,” Keiko scolded, though her fond gaze softened her words. “I'll order for you, before you destroy the menu and what's left of your appetite.”

“You don't even know what I want to eat,” Colleen pouted, grabbing the edge of her cloth napkin. She absently twisted it between her fingers, creating a gentle clatter as she disturbed the tucked silverware.

Keiko only shook her head, ignoring her weak protest. “You won't remember what you eat regardless.”

Colleen let her mind wander as the waitress entered to take their orders, trusting Keiko to handle her meal. She spent most of dinner thinking over the Garrett’s proposal.

She had received an answer late the following day, asking if it would be possible to meet with her face to face. On the one hand, she was thrilled with the positive response, quickly agreeing and sending them her availability. However, as she sat and waited for their answer, she began to doubt the wisdom of her decision.

Seeing her own pain and search for answers reflected in the faces of two other parents can be as painful as it is cathartic. Were they ready to face the possible hard truths? Was she ready to hear them? What if they only wanted the chance to put a face to the conspiracy theory? What if they wanted to express their anger in person, screaming in her face, or worse?

Her downward spiral was interrupted by another email, suggesting they meet at a local restaurant where they worked. They assured her all the arrangements would be taken care of for her and the Shirogane's, and they would discuss everything after dinner, when they were finished with their shifts.

Before she could over think her response, Colleen agreed, shutting the lid of her laptop as soon as the message was sent.

Keiko snapped her out of her thoughts with a soft tap on her elbow as a dessert cart entered the room. Colleen blinked at the place where her plate had sat, slightly perturbed that she couldn't remember what had been ordered for her. She refused to give Keiko the satisfaction, but she still caught her slight grin from the corner of her eye.

Yusuke took pity on her, amused by their silent bickering. “It was chicken caesar salad. Don't worry, you ate it all.”

Colleen frowned and sent a sideways glare at her so-called friend.

“You ordered the one dish with massive amounts of garlic for our first meeting with the Garrett's?”

Keiko merely shrugged, completely unperturbed by her decision. “I honestly expected you to protest at some point, but you were so caught up in whatever you were thinking about, you never even noticed.”

Colleen groaned and dropped her head in her hands, propping her elbows on the table with a clatter.

“You're the bane of my existence,” She moaned dramatically.

Keiko laughed as Yusuke chuckled, their amusement bleeding through her mock pout until she joined in, the knot of tension finally lifting.

“I hope we’re not interrupting,” a voice ventured from the door.

The trio glanced up at the amused words. A couple stood hesitantly in the doorway, as if waiting permission to step inside.

Colleen shook her head and offered a smile. “Not at all. Are you looking for someone?”

The woman stepped forward and extended her hand. “We are. Colleen Holt?”

Colleen jumped up, quickly shaking the offered hand. “Yes, you must be Grace and Jason. Please, sit down.”

Introductions and pleasantries were exchanged as the newcomers settled in their seats.

“I'm not used to being offered a seat in our own restaurant,” Jason joked with a smile, leaning back in his chair.

“You own this?” Keiko asked with a small gasp. “We had never eaten here before,” she began, nodding to her husband, “but the food was wonderful.”

Jason grinned and inclined his head to Grace. “She's the one you should be complimenting. She's the head chef.”

Grace shook her head, then smiled pleasantly at Keiko. “I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it. We weren't sure just how to approach this meeting, so we figured the best option would be to add food.”

Colleen chuckled. “I'm glad to hear we weren't the only nervous ones.”

The Garretts shared a look before focusing their attention on Colleen. The atmosphere shifted as everyone settled in for the point of the meeting.

"First if all, we want to thank you for reaching out to us." Grace leaned forward, her expression earnest. "This had been a difficult time for us, and honestly, we were grasping at anything at this point. You've been a lifeline for us.”

  
Colleen looked shocked, her words catching her by surprise. "I- I don't know what to say. I was just trying to help."

  
"And you have, immensely, more than you know." Jason reassured. "We really didn't know what to do. We've exhausted all our options, and right now, all the police are saying is to be patient."

  
Colleen nodded, knowing exactly what they were going through. It was difficult to sit at home and wait while others looked for your loved ones. It was even worse to be told there was nothing else that could be done, to just sit and wait.

  
"I want to be completely honest from the beginning," she began, pausing to ensure their full attention. "This may end with nothing. At the end of it all, this could just be a giant conspiracy theory, a wild goose chase. It's possible that we won't find anything, answers or otherwise."

  
Grace and Jason nodded, their own gazes never wavering. "We know, and we've discussed the possibility," Grace answered, tightening her hold on her husband's hand. "But we can't just sit and wait for answers that may never come. If there is anything we can do to find our own answers, even if we don't like the result, we will."

  
Colleen heaved a sigh and slumped back in her chair, relief rolling off her in waves. Keiko stifled a chuckle at her friend's antics, turning her smile on the confused Garrett's.

  
"She's been worrying about this meeting for days, working herself into a frenzy. Give her a minute."

  
Jason laughed and playfully shoved at Grace, earning a glare for his efforts. "See? I told you it was a good idea. This poor woman would have probably died if I hadn't intervened."

  
Colleen straightened as Yusuke smirked. "Your's did it too?"

  
Jason matched his smirk and nodded, ignoring the light pounding his arm was getting from Grace as she protested. "Oh man, she ripped into me like I was the fresh catch on the menu. I was left bleeding on the floor it was so bad."

  
"You were not, you dramatic dork. I did nothing of the sort." Grace argued, but a grin slid across her face regardless.

  
Keiko huffed and crossed her arms, turning away from Yusuke with a delicate snort. "You  are clearly exaggerating."

  
Yusuke ignored her and leaned towards Jason, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I had to hide the kitchen knives for a week after Colleen called us initially. I thought for sure she was going to murder either me or some innocent bystander."

  
Jason laughed loudly as the wives protested, both jostling playfully at their husband's shoulders.

Colleen watched with a slight smile, her chest a heavy mix of amusement and affection, though the void still lingered. She thought back on her own mock arguments with Sam, how he had laughed at her attempts to silence his outlandish stories.

The weight of his absence hit her at once, pinning her to her chair as she fought for breath.

She missed him dearly.

“Colleen?”

She lifted her eyes to Keiko’s face, unable to move further. Keiko’s expression shifted from worry to concern as she read the grief in her posture, and she quickly slid off her chair to wrap her arms around the paralyzed woman.

“Breathe, my friend, just breathe. It will be okay.”

Colleen closed her eyes and slowly wrapped her arms around her in return, her limbs feeling like lead weights. “It’s so hard,” she choked out. “He should be here. He should be here, too.”

Keiko made a soft sound of agreement as she swayed in place, ignoring the rest of the room to calm Colleen.

A second set of soft and powerful arms wrapped around her from behind, engulfing her between two comforting souls. She didn't have to turn to know it was Grace.

After a long moment, Colleen heaved a sigh, releasing it slowly as she pulled away, wiping her eyes as the pair gave her space. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

“Don't apologize for missing your family,” Jason stated, watching her from across the table, his eyes clear of judgement. “Everyone here understands.”

Colleen nodded and inhaled deeply, holding her breath as Keiko and Grace returned to their seats. She focused on the fullness in her chest, letting the sensation ground her turbulent feelings, then released it slowly. She glanced around the room, allowing a touch of pride to take hold. She had helped bring these hurting and desperate people together, tethering their directionless energy and drive towards real progress.

They would get answers, one way or another.

“We need to figure out our next step,” Colleen stated clearly. “I believe our best chance for answers is to find Keith.”

“The boy your daughter mentioned?” Grace asked.

Colleen nodded. “Whatever happened that night, he was there. They spent some time at his residence. We need to find him and ask him some questions.”

“What could he tell us that he hadn't already told the police?” Jason inquired, his brows drawn into a frown.

Keiko leaned forward slightly, excitement coloring her words. “He has no obvious connection with the other students, so the police would have no reason to look for him, let alone question him. We are the only ones who know he was there that night.”

Grace gasped as Jason leaned forward, matching Keiko’s excitement.

“You mean he could be the lead we’re looking for.”

“Exactly.”

“He’s the one who lives in the shack?” Grace fidgeted slightly, a slight frown marring her expression. “The one in the satellite image?”

“Yes,” Yusuke spoke, his arms crossed loosely across his chest. “It's the only structure I managed to find within a reasonable distance of the crash site, aside from the Garrison.”

“Do you have a timeline?” Jason’s eyes were bright as they darted around the group.

“Honey-"

“The longer we wait, the less chance we have of finding out what happened,” Jason cut her off.

Grace frowned and leaned away from the table, twisting absently at the hem of her shirt.

Colleen blinked in surprise, not expecting them to want to jump straight into their investigation.

“To be honest, I wasn't expecting to take a trip there immediately,” she began slowly, gauging the Shirogane’s reactions. When neither objected, she pressed on. “However, I don't see why we couldn't go immediately.”

Jason beamed, clearly caught up in the heady glimmer of hope. “We could go tomorrow.”

Keiko and Yusuke shared a long, silent look, somehow communicating their concerns. After a moment, Yusuke closed his eyes and inclined his head to her. Keiko turned to the others.

“We have no objections.”

Colleen hesitated. She was eager to get out and do be proactive in her hunt for answers, but there were still too many unknowns. And even more importantly-

“Isn't there another family invested in this?” Grace questioned, scanning their faces until she locked eyes with Colleen.

Colleen found herself nodding. “The McClains, Cristina and Hector.”

“They would want to know our plans. I know I would,” Grace said earnestly. “They may even want to come with us.”

Colleen chewed on her lip as she thought back on their correspondence. They had reassured her they were interested in whatever she and the others turned up, but had also decided they would remain outside the investigation unless something was found. Taking a trip to Keith’s cabin could constitute a significant development, assuming anything came of it.

“I think they would want to be there,” she said slowly. “Regardless of what comes of it, I believe they will want to hear what he has to say themselves.”

Jason slapped a palm on the table, causing the parents to jolt in surprise. “It’s settled then. We’ll call them and arrange to meet them along the way.”

“That's assuming they'll even have time to go,” Grace chided. “It’s extremely short notice. And are they even in town? How far do they have to travel? Do they have other children? They'd have to make arrangements. What about their jobs?”

Jason sighed and smiled affectionately at his wife. “That's why you make the shopping lists, dear.”

Colleen looked around the gathered faces, at old friends and new as they laughed and talked, everyone’s mood buoyed by the prospect of finally _doing_ something.

Their investigation had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I haven't abandoned my heroes. I'm super excited about what season three may bring. 
> 
> But no matter what happens in space, the parents still search for answers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, it's been a year. *blows the dust off* How about an update in honor of the glorious Season 7 news!! If you haven't heard already, then you're in luck! This fic has no spoilers for that! Plus, you only have to wait another week while the rest of us have been left in pre-season spoiler hell (not that I'm complaining; I jumped into that pit with both feet).
> 
> Also, un beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

He knew it was going to be difficult. He was an investigative reporter; difficult was a good day. But this was a whole new level of antagonizing and frustrations, one that he attributed to the personal nature of his investigation. 

Hector had reported on missing persons before. Some of his earliest stories involved digging up cold cases and rehashing old facts in the hopes that a new set of eyes, new readership, or even an old but forgotten reader would be reminded and step forward. It was rarely rewarding, but the few times it worked made up for the long stretches of failures.

He had moved on since then, slowly climbing the ladder to bigger and better stories, until the point where he could select his own work, pursue his own investigations, and present them for submission. It was tedious and time consuming work, but he found it incredibly rewarding to see his writing published, and the stories he believed to be important told.

Hector rolled his shoulders and rubbed his neck, trying to ease some of the tension that had built as he sat in the hall and waited. He had decided to start with the obvious path, to speak directly with the Garrison officials for any information regarding his missing son. He had expected some cooperation, considering he was a parent, but had instead been completely stonewalled by the administration, who repeatedly claimed that due to the nature of the investigation, they couldn't give him any information.

His first real lead came when a student had stopped him after another disappointing discussion with officials. The young man had apologized for inadvertently eavesdropping, but claimed he was willing to speak after class. Hector hadn’t even got the boy’s name before he went running down the hall, the class bell ringing in his wake.

He now completely understood the anger that simmered in all the families of missing persons he had interviewed. 

“Mr. McClain?”

Hector jumped slightly, turning quickly to the equally startled youth now standing at his side. 

“Sorry, I was thinking so hard I didn't hear you walk up.”

The young man shrugged with a crooked grin. “No worries. Do you still want to talk?”

Hector stood quickly and nodded, extending a hand to the cadet. “Of course. Hector McClain, independent reporter.”

The cadet clasped his hand and answered his firm shake. “Wiles Storhold, cadet, mechanic, and apparently, conspiracy theorist.”

Hector chuckled and grabbed his briefcase off the floor. “I'm all ears. I'll take anything at this point.”

Wiles nodded and grimaced. “I'm really sorry about Lance. It's been rough for us, but I'm sure it's way worse for you. If there's anything we can do to help-"

Hector shook his head firmly. “You're already doing more than any of the officials I've spoken to. Lead the way.”

Wiles led him through the Garrison compound, weaving around buildings until they approached what looked like a dorm building.

“How many people should I expect?” Hector inquired as they waited for the elevator. 

Wiles looked sheepish and shrugged one shoulder. “Um, well, the thing about being labeled a conspiracy nut is that you tend not to have many friends, so… Myself and one other.”

Hector shrugged and followed the startled youth inside. “Like I said, I'll take what I can get. Two is way better than zero.”

Wiles chuckled and leaned against the far wall, having pressed the button for his floor. “I see where Lance gets his laid back attitude.”

Hector quirked a smile at his fond tone. “Were you two close?”

“We were in the cargo pilot training together before he got bumped to fighter, but he still hung out with us.” Wiles snorted bitterly. “The fighter class always thought they were better than us, but Lance never once gloated about making the cut.”

“Really?” Hector snorted in surprise. “Seems exactly like something he would gloat about.”

Wiles shrugged. “I mean, he joked about it, we all did, but it was never mean spirited.”

The doors opened, and Wiles led them down the left hall, stopping just a few doors down. He knocked on the door, then smiled when a short, Asian girl answered. She glanced between them, her face blank, then stepped aside, pulling the door open.

“I didn’t think he’d come.”

The two stepped inside and stood in the middle of the room as she closed the door and walked around them. She stopped in front of Hector and offered her hand.

“I’m Alice Sherber. You must be McClain’s dad.”

Hector shook the offered hand as he quirked a grin. “Is it really that obvious?”

“It’s the body language,” Alice shrugged. “He probably gets his looks from his mom.”

“Alice!” Wiles hissed as Hector laughed.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he joked with a smile.

She returned a grin, her expression smug. “Make yourselves comfortable,” she waved vaguely as she turned away to perch on her computer chair, half turned toward the desk behind her.

Wiles deferred to Hector with a nod, allowing him first choice between the laundry-strewn bed, presumably clean, and the only other chair, currently occupied with books and papers stacked haphazardly on the seat. After a brief debate, Hector chose the chair. He removed the wobbling stack, placing them on the floor in a much neater pile, and sat. He leaned his briefcase against the legs and pulled out his voice recorder and notepad.

Wiles hopped on the bed, indifferent to the clothing.

“I assumed you’re here about McClain, and I’m sorry,” Alice said, locking eyes with Hector, direct and unwavering. “He was kind to me, despite his popularity.”

“You’re not well liked?” Hector asked delicately.

Alice snorted. “I’m rooted firmly in the ‘nerd’ category. Add in poor social skills, and well,” she shrugged.

“You’re too hard on yourself-” Wiles started.

“I’m well aware of my faults, Storhold,” Alice cut in, narrowing her eyes at him. “There aren’t many people who want to hang out with someone more interested in stars than those five feet away.”

Hector watched the exchange, unsure of how to interject when she turned back to him. He quickly clicked on the recorder

“I can’t help you find your son. I didn’t see him in the days leading up to his disappearance, and I never spoke directly to the other two students.”

“But you did see something that night,” Hector said, surprised by her straightforward statement and disheartened by her harsh reality. He pushed both aside; he came here for answers, whether they were tied directly to Lance or not.

She glanced briefly at Wiles, her first moment of hesitation, then looked back to him, adjusting her perch, tucking her legs under her.

“Before we go any further, I want to make a few things clear.”

Hector doubted she ever had trouble in that category, but nodded for her to continue.

“I am, first and foremost, a scientist. Anything I find in my observations is tracked, measured, analyzed within an inch of its life, and compared against knowns that are accepted as scientific fact,” she said firmly, her eyes hard. “I am  _ not _ a conspiracy theorist.”

“I understand,” Hector said, nodding again.

She studied him a moment, then nodded once. “Right, I’ll start with the facts. At approximately 11:48 PM, the Garrison was put on a campus wide lockdown. No one could leave their rooms, and all personnel were ordered to shelter in place.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hector saw Wiles nod slowly, his eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest. He had shifted to sit cross legged on the bed, and for a moment, looked so much like Lance Hector couldn’t breathe.

“The lockdown lasted until approximately 6:03 PM the following day,” she continued, oblivious to his turmoil. “During this time, the personnel orders changed from shelter in place to patrol and surveillance. They strictly enforced the student lockdown.”

Hector hummed in acknowledgement, glancing down periodically to jot down notes, marking the time on his recorder.

“On that night, I had this telescope set up just as it is now,” she said as she gestured to the window. Hector blinked, noticing the setup for the first time.

The telescope was pointed up and to the left at an angle and a tangle of wires hung off it like vines, trailing along the floor to disappear behind the desk.

“I was preparing for bed when my monitoring system alerted me to movement,” Alice continued, her voice detached and clinical. “I have it programmed to monitor around the clock and only send alerts when it picked up significant movement.”

“Seems like an unnecessary system if you’re studying the stars,” Hector said with a frown.

“I have it enabled so I can note the time stamp for closer review later,” she explained. “Normally, it is something mundane, such as a small aircraft, but this time, it was something much different.”

Alice smiled with all the satisfaction of a researcher on the brink of a discovery.

“I caught an object falling from space.”

Hector’s eyes widened. “A meteorite?”

“One would assume, at first.” Her grin turned secretive as she leaned forward in her seat. “I have reason to believe it was actually an unidentified flying object - a spaceship!”

Hector blinked at her, the room silent as he registered her words. “You’re saying aliens crashed landed on Earth, right here,” he said, sparing a glance at Wiles. He was met with a firm gaze, his expression as serious as he had seen. Remembering Alice’s declarations, Hector leaned back in his chair, noting the time in his notebook.

“Alright, convince me.”

Alice immediately spun her chair away, turning on her monitors with a practiced wave of her arm, fingers tapping off the power buttons. She pulled up a chart on one screen, and a video on the other, currently paused on a star-studded night sky.

“To those with only a basic understanding of meteorites, one would conclude this falls into the same category,” she said as she turned back to them, moving her chair out of the way. She tapped a key on the keyboard to start up the video. 

Hector felt his eyes widen as a point of light appeared in the night sky, steadily growing in size until the large glowing ball crashed into the desert with a flash of light. 

“Play that again.”

Alice replied by starting the video again, tapping an extra key to set it on repeat. He watched the ball of light streak across the screen over and over, his head shaking in wonder. 

“And you’re sure this isn’t a meteorite.”

She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees, her eyes taking on a fervored light. 

“Oh, now you’ve gone and done it,” Wiles said, watching her with a smirk. 

“Meteoroids are made up of rock and metals, iron and nickel. Most meteorites either burn up in the atmosphere or break up shortly after. Those that do make it to Earth are mostly the remaining metals.”

“Alright, makes sense.” Hector nodded.

“Everyone knows iron is  _ heavy _ . Even small recovered meteorites can weigh hundreds of pounds. Now, given the size of the falling object and how fast it’s travelling, one would expect it to weight thousands of pounds.” She turned and pointed at the screen just as the object crashed into Earth. “The resulting impact crater and damage should have been greater.”

Hector blinked and focused on the footage, paying close attention to the few seconds just after the landing. 

“There’s no sign of any fallout when you approach the Garrison,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on the repeating path of light. “If I hadn’t seen this footage, I would have never believed that anything had happened here.”

Alice nodded quickly, her excitement nearly infectious. “ _ Exactly _ . Whatever fell that night was sturdy enough to survive a fall through our atmosphere, implying a metal of some sort, while remaining light enough to cause minimal damage at the point of impact, suggesting it could have been hollow. Thus, spaceship.”

Hector let out a slow breath as he watched the footage again, his head shaking slowly back and forth. It was… Outrageous. Impossible. The furthest theory from the truth that anyone could have offered by way of explanation, yet here was actual footage to back her claim.

“If it was a spaceship, where is it now?” Hector tore his eyes away to look at her. Something this big landing so close to the Garrison wouldn’t go unnoticed. 

“There are lots of rumors,” Wiles spoke up, drawing their attention. He tipped his head to the looping footage. “Alice wasn’t able to record anything that happened up close, but about an hour later, there’s another flash of light. It cooresponds roughly with the time land rovers were dispatched from the motor pool.”

“So the Garrison knew,” Hector proded, hoping to get solid confirmation from the teens.

“Without a doubt,” Alice said as she crossed her arms. “Whatever landed out there, the higher ups have been keeping it under wraps and lock and key. No one knows what happened later that night. For all we know, they could have an alien spaceship hidden away on the base.”

Hector leaned back in his chair, eyes staring blankly ahead as he tried to process the new information. Aliens? Conspiracy theories? Missing cadets? How did it all connect? What did any of it have to do with his son’s disappearance?

“That’s not everything,” Alice said softly.

Hector blinked and refocused on her face, unsure he could handle much more. “How could there possibly be more?”

Instead of answering, she spun her chair back to the desk and typed briefly on her tiny, brightly colored keyboard. The looping video was replaced with a new image, this time during the day. The same scenery stretched across the monitor, any signs of the previous night’s events either erased or out of view. She tapped another key and pushed away from the desk as the video began to play.

This time, the burst of activity came from Earth. The cliff face across the expance of desert suddenly exploded, expelling an enormous blue, cat-like ship into the sky. Hector gaped as the thing looped and twisted in the air before pointing its head to the sky and accelertating, disappearing into the atmosphere.

The video began again until Alice paused it with the image of the catship stretching across the screen, perfectly clear.

“What the hell is that?” Hector gasped, his eyes darting across the strange design.

“Dunno,” Alice shrugged. “But it came from Earth.”

“No way. Impossible.” Hector scoffed in disbelief as he shook his head. He barely noticed his pen falling from his lax grip to the floor. “There’s no way that thing is from Earth.”

Alice grinned as Wiles leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. “So you’re saying it’s alien,” he said slowly, his eyes bright.

Hector wrenched his eyes away from the screen to Wiles. “There is no country in the  _ world _ with the capability to build something like that!” He waved a hand at the screen, trying and failing to keep his emotions in check. “How does that thing fly? Where are its rockets? Where does the pilot sit? Does it have weapons? Why is it shaped like a  _ cat _ ?!”

Alice suddenly burst out laughing with Wiles not far behind. Hector dropped his head in his hands as he fought back his own bubble of hysterical laughter. 

This is not at all what he had expected.

“Sorry,” Alice said between breaths. She calmed down enough to smirk at him, though her lips twitched occationally. “You were so skeptical before, and now you’re questioning alien spaceship asthetics.”

“And you haven’t?” Hector asked in disbelief. 

“Oh no, we’ve had  _ way _ too many discussions about it,” Wiles said with a grin. 

Hector looked back at the screen, his mind already falling back on his original question. What did any of this have to do with Lance? 

“Look, I’m sorry if this hasn’t been much help,” Wiles said, clearing his thoat. “I don’t want you to feel like I led you on or anything, about Lance, but I figured since this all happened at the same time-” He trailed off, looking sheepish and apologetic. 

“You’re the reporter,” Alice picked up as she locked Hector with an intense stare. “This is only a piece of the puzzle. Maybe you can be the one to put all the pieces together.”

Hector looked between the two and felt his heart swell. Here were two strangers who barely knew his son who were willing to put themselves out there to help him. He smiled at them as gratitude swept through him. 

“Thank you, both of you, for all your help.” He leaned forward, drawing them in with a conspiratorial grin. “Any chance I can get a copy of that footage?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't look me in the eye and tell me no one outside of the brass saw something that night. The Garrison has become the new Area 52! ROSWELL LIVES!


End file.
